The Harry Potter Note
by charmedgal005
Summary: Some couples have a special song or movie. We shared a book.


**The Harry Potter Note**

**charmedgal005**

_I don't own Alias, or __Sydney__, or Vaughn, or Weiss, Lauren, or Irina, or Francie, or Will, or Jack.  I am simply a poor student, who writes little fan fictions in her free time.  So please don't sue me over a couple characters that I admit I do not own.  Because I literally only own 334 pennies._

She's dead.  I never believed it when I heard it for the first time.  She had been dead before.  We had both been dead before.  They had to tell me twice more before I could believe it.  I should have believed it from the start.  No one could survive a shot to the head.  I tried to stop them.  I jumped in front of the first bullet.  My leg now hurts like a son of a bitch.  The bullet should be in my head, not hers.  I can't let Lauren find out how I got shot.  She would surely never trust me again.  She never liked our friendship.  She didn't trust her.  But we weren't really friends.  She never forgave me for marrying Lauren.  It was too painful for her to look at me for a long period of time.  She'd put up with me while we were at work.  She had to.  But I would see her, and feel guilty.

Weiss stopped by last week.  I'm still on bed rest.  Doctors orders.  "I had to clean out Sydney's apartment."  It probably was hard for him to do.  They became good friends too.  I knew that there was nothing in her apartment of mine.  Everything of me and Sydney was burned when she 'died.'  He handed me a book wrapped in brown paper.  "She told me that if she ever died, to give this to you."  Weiss nodded, and left.

I nimbly tear the paper off.  I put the paper on the night stand, and looked at the book.  _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.  I give a small laugh.  Sydney and I saw that movie together.  She told me that she felt a little silly seeing it on opening day, but that she always loved the movie.  I open the cover to find Sydney's handwriting._

This copy is Sydney Bristow's.  Francie!  Go find your own copy!

Underneath it was my own.

But Michael Vaughn, her sexy and god-like boyfriend, shares it.

I laugh again.  I can understand why Sydney wanted me to have it.  I gave it to her on our first Christmas together.  What baffles me is how the book survived the fire.  Nothing of hers survived.  The writing continued on the next page.

William Tippin reads it too!  Because his girlfriend lost her copy. 

Will!  Get me a copy for Christmas, or my birthday, or just because.

Good idea Francie.  Thanks!

Why are you writing in my book? 

And that was it.  There was no more writing. 

Will must have had the book in his apartment at the time of the fire.  When he heard that Sydney survived, he must have sent the book back to her.  With nothing but the TV to entertain me, I started to read the book.  For an adult, it's a quick read.  And I'm a fast reader as it was.  When I got to the Christmas, a neatly folded note fell out.  I put the book beside me, and opened the worn paper.

Sydney wrote my name on the outside.   

Vaughn.

Those six letters, in that order stir so many emotions.  Especially in her handwriting.  No matter how many times I told her to call me Michael, she would insist on calling me Vaughn. It was something I grew accustomed to.  I loved it when she called me Vaughn.

I can't remember the first person I had to grieve for.  I thought it was my mother.  But my father told me no. My grandmother died before my mother died.  I was close to my grandmother.  I was four.  I don't remember much from when I was four.  Next it was my mother.  I don't think I ever got over my mother's death until I found out the truth.  You can't really blame me.  She was my idol.  I wanted to be just like my mother, I even based my career choice on being just like her.  Being a spy wasn't my choice.  It just happened.  And then there was the friend that died of cancer in junior high.  We weren't close.  But it made me realize how deadly our own bodies were.  Sarah committed suicide a few years later. I had problems getting over her death.  Suicide is such a selfish thing. I saw it coming. I went and got her help.  Sarah was one of my best friends.  But just loving her wasn't enough.  She never really was happy on this earth. I hope she's happy up in heaven.

Then there was Danny.  Sweet, kind, caring Danny.  He never did anything wrong.  I had some problems when he died.  But by then, death, and grieving when someone died, came naturally to me.  It should be the last thing that should be natural.  After all those people had died, Danny's murder took me for a spin.  Love was the last thing I thought would happen.  But there was someone there that held my hand.  I don't think you realized it.  But in those weeks when we first met with each other, you held my hand.  You helped me get over Danny, months after his funeral.  I never did thank you for that.  Or apologize for how hostile I was.  It was easy for me to get over Noah. By that time, you were already there.  When I kissed Noah, I felt like I was cheating on you.  But it still hurt.  I couldn't believe that Noah was dead.  I stopped trusting in myself.  There were only a few people that I loved, and still lived.  I lost another mother when Emily died. I couldn't grieve long.  Death was an everyday thing for me.  Like getting gas for my car, or buying milk. And it didn't matter.  Because she wasn't dead.  And then she died, and I had already grieved.  

Francie had been there when everyone died. We had been friends since we were two.  She was my friend and comfort when my grandmother died, and my mother, and everyone else.  She had been the one person that was my best friend, I loved, and lasted that long.  When I found out that she was dead.  I thought I died too.  It didn't seem fair.  It was like the first time someone had died. No longer was it an everyday thing.  

But the hardest I ever had to grieve wasn't when someone died.  I felt betrayed when you told me that you got married in the time that I was missing.  You might as well have killed me right then and there.  It would have been better if I had never come back.  I would have never had to deal with the gut wrenching pain of seeing you and Lauren.  It was just as bad if I saw just you.  Or when you would subconsciously stretch, and your golden ring would shine in the light.  It could have been "The One Ring", you know, the one from "Lord of the Rings?" Because every time I saw it, it seemed to have the power to make me want to throw up.  

And you were always so kind to me!  That was just as bad as you moving on.  I know my father told you how I felt.  He told me what he told you.  You know; all the stuff about being nice to me.  Why didn't you listen to him?!?!  There were days when you would be so nice to me, and I would forget that you were married.  It was like before I disappeared. And then I'd go home to an empty apartment, where all the stuff that reminded me of you was gone, and I would suddenly remember.  You were married.  Your kindness ate me alive.  Every time you smiled at me, it was like a stab in my heart.  You were killing me with your kindness.

I believe that you still love me. But I understood why you were with Lauren.  It was one of the reasons I loved you. You were always so loyal.  I thought you were true to your heart.  But if that was true, then you wouldn't believe that I was dead.  Do you remember when you told me that our hearts beat as one?  Wouldn't that mean that when I died, you would know it?  No, everyone else told you that I was dead, everyone else told you to move on.  Being loyal to your friends, you did so. You would go out partying with them. When they told you to ask someone out, you would.  When they told you that you should get married, you did.  

I wish I could have screamed, "FOLLOW YOUR HEART" at the top of my lungs.  Even if it was too late. You would have still heard me.  But talking to you hurt.  I would do it, but only if it was necessary.  Because it hurt.  Some how, in every conversation we had, I would remember how it used to be.  And let myself open up again.  But then some how your wife would pop up, and I would get hurt all over again.  So I didn't want to try anymore.

So Vaughn, I guess you're reading this because I've left this world.  I couldn't say these things to you while I was still breathing.  Alive isn't the right world. I died when I saw the ring.  But breathing.  Because I knew, no matter what, you were too kind and loyal to change anything.  And I was too late.

My love always,

Sydney.

I was crying by the time I finished reading the note.  Sydney was right.  I was too loyal to change anything.  And, now, everything was too late.  I quietly folded the note back up.  I put it between the same two pages, and closed the book. I'd finish the book later.  I tossed the book on the chair by the closet door.  I picked up my crutches and hopped to the closet.  I could hear Lauren pulling into the driveway, getting home from a meeting with Sloane.  I quickly grabbed an old shoe box from behind some old sweaters and even more shoe boxes. Lauren knows not to open that box.  Inside it, there was a small stack of pictures of me and Sydney.  There was a half melted necklace that Sydney used to wear.  I placed the book on top.  And threw the box behind the clothing.

Lauren found me standing by the closet.  I made up some silly excuse about being too hot to wear the sweater I put on.  She gave me a kiss for picking up my laundry.  She then started to pack up her things, explaining that she had book club that night.  I knew that.  It was on the neat and tidy calendar she kept by the kitchen.  She showed me the book they were reading.  "_Harry Potter and the Sorcerers' Stone.  Ever read it?"_

I knew I couldn't tell her the truth. I was just reading it.  Sydney made me read it.  The book was our favorite book as a couple.  Some people have songs, or movies.  We had a book.  I looked my wife in the eye.  "No." 

~FIN~


End file.
